Alone
by HogwartsDreamer113
Summary: "I alone was there for him. I alone knew his final words, but didn't do anything. I alone possibly could have saved him." When Lily finds a journal she writes in it against her better judgement, and like her mother years before learns an important lesson.


**Warning: This story contains mentions of suicide. Reader discretion is advised.**

**Author's note: Dedicated to a former classmate of mine, who committed suicide last weekend. Rest in peace.**

_**Alone**_

There are some things I will never understand. I just don't get why the Scamander twins still believe in nargles, why Albus and Alice won't get together already, and why people expect my brothers and me to be carbon copies of our parents just because our last name is Potter. Lately I've been asking myself why, in the name of Merlin, would anyone do what Will did just a few hours ago. Was his life so terrible that he didn't know where else to turn? What pushed him over the edge? Perhaps the biggest question I have is whether or not I could have stopped him.

I first started writing to Will a few months, at the beginning of fourth year. I was in the library, looking for a book to help me with a Defense Against the Dark Arts essay, when I saw a small book that looked out of place on the shelf. When I picked it up, I discovered it wasn't a book at all, but a velvet-covered journal. I opened it to see if I could find a name inside, but nothing was written on the front cover. Even though I knew I shouldn't, I checked the first page. What I read surprised me.

_All I want is to be accepted… to have a friend… I just need someone to talk to, so if you're reading this, __please__ respond._

My Grandpa Arthur has always said, "Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain." My mum once got into trouble by writing to someone in a journal, a story that is meant for "when I'm older". Yet… this person needed me. What harm could writing in a journal do, anyway?

**Hey, what's wrong**,I wrote, and closed the journal. I kept it open beside me as I wrote my essay. For whatever reason, I just happened to glance at the page and was surprised to see more words written directly beneath mine.

_Thank you for replying. I just need someone to understand._

I quickly replied back. **How did you do that? Make the words just appear, I mean? And what's your name, anyway?**

A few seconds later, more words appeared, as if they were being written by an invisible person.

_My name is Wilbur, but you can call me Will. I charmed this journal so I could talk to someone. Everything we write will be visible to both of us._

Over the next few months, Will and I wrote back and forth to each other, and I got to know him. I learned he was a fifth year Ravenclaw, and didn't have anyone else to turn to. He had no friends and no family that actually cared about him, that he could write to or visit regularly, anyways. His mother had been a squib, but she died when he was nine. When his father, a muggle, found out he was a wizard, he was furious, and started beating Will. Will was an only child, so he didn't have anyone to protect him. He was sure school would be better, but it wasn't. At school he never fit it, and was even teased for his belief that Voldemort was reincarnated into Mrs. Norris II, old Filch's cat. I thought the idea was a little crazy myself, but of course I didn't say anything.

Although I knew a lot about Will, all he really knew about me was that my name was Lily – not Lily Potter, just Lily – and that I was a fourth year Gryffindor. I would have told him what it was like to be the daughter of celebrities. I would have explained what being the youngest in a family with eleven other kids, not counting Teddy, and being constantly compared to them. I didn't though, because I didn't want Will to think my simple problems were superior to his, because they weren't. Not at all.

One day, Will wrote something very interesting.

_Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve everything I receive. My paternal grandmother, the only person who loved me, died yesterday. My dad sent me a letter… "My mum died". That's all it said. She had Alzheimer's, though, and didn't even remember me. At least her suffering is over._

**Oh no! I'm so sorry! Just don't be afraid to let everything out to me, alright? **I reply.

_Thanks, Lily. For everything. You are an angel. My grandmother is surely happier now, as I will be. I'll see you again someday._

I was about to write back, but Roxy, my closest female cousin in age – a year above me – rushes into my dorm. "Lily, aren't you coming?"

"Coming to what?"

"Hogsmeade! Remember?"

"Oh yeah!"

My friend Carissa, who's sitting on her bed next to mine, laughs. "How could you forget about Hogsmeade?"

I shrug and toss the journal on my bed before heading out the door to Hogsmeade. Even though I loved Hogsmeade, I couldn't stop thinking about Will's words. What did he mean, he'd "see me again someday"?

Our trip was called short when Professor Clearton, the headmistress, called us back to the castle. We all gathered in the Great Hall, where the headmistress was waiting, looking very solemn. As she cleared her throat, the students stopped talking.

"There has been a great tragedy. Wilbur Stevens, a fifth year Ravenclaw, has broken into a muggle gun shop, and shot himself in the head. His family has been notified, and while it their job to make funeral arrangement, Hogwarts will be holding a memorial service this Tuesday evening. That is all."

I am in shock, and judging by the near silence in the Great Hall, everyone else is too. I knew he had a hard life, but how could anyone hurt so badly that they decide having no life at all would be better than the life they were living. What pushed him to such extremes? Did he really feel so alone? I think back on the words he wrote._ I'll see you again someday. _Suddenly, it dawns on me. I knew. Maybe he didn't say it directly, but it was still there in writing. Could I have saved him? I still don't know, but at that moment, Will wasn't the only one who was alone. I alone was there for him. I alone knew his final words, but didn't do anything alone. I alone possibly could have saved him. And that's the biggest question that still haunts me to this day.


End file.
